My Brothers, Oh Brothers
by Dorthey Star
Summary: [compete] When Hermione loses her two brothers, she never expects to find comfort and strength in her ex, Draco Malfoy.


**My Brothers, Oh Brothers**

By Dorthey Star

***

She really shouldn't have been surprised that he was the one to tell her the news. After all, he was the one that knew her the best and whom she trusted the most other than her best friends. 

Harry and Ron.

It hurt to think about them. She couldn't believe that just that morning she had been having an argument with them over something so stupid as where to have lunch. She had been so mad then and had stormed off. She had had lunch with Ginny instead. Now, just short of twelve hours later, they were gone. 

Seven years ago, one would have thought that Draco Malfoy would have gotten a lot of satisfaction out of telling Hermione Granger that her two best friends were dead. The gentle, sad look on his face when he told her the news just proved that things change; people change. 

She had wondered when he had shown up at her door that evening what he wanted. She hadn't seen him since their break up five years ago after dating for two years. She had offered him a seat, but he had shaken his head. 

"We shouldn't talk here; it's not safe," he said, glancing over his shoulder as if looking for spies. Her eyebrows furrowed together.

"What do you mean it's not safe?" she asked. He sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. Hermione had to repress a shudder. She had always loved his hair, so blonde and silky. The ache in her heart that she had thought was gone came back in full force. 

_"What I mean," he said, talking slowly so that she could understand, "is that someone could overhear us, and that wouldn't be good. Now, do you trust me enough to go with me?" His voice was laced with bitterness, and Hermione knew that he hadn't forgotten their breakup. She hadn't forgotten it either. She pushed aside her thoughts of the most painful period she had ever experienced and nodded._

_"Do I need to take anything with me?" She asked, stepping back into her flat and out of the doorway so that he could come in. He nodded._

_"Grab some clothes. It might be a while before we're back. Hurry, though. They could come at any minute," he said, urgently pushing her in the direction of her room, which he knew so well. Years of war had trained her not to ask too many questions. She hurried to her room to pack, leaving Draco in the living room. She was ready to go in five minutes flat. _

They had taken a portkey to his manor, where he had taken her into his private drawing room and had told her about Harry and Ron. She sat, unable to comprehend what he said. 

"W-What about Voldemort?" she asked dully, looking at him. Draco smiled bitterly, and Hermione knew that it could be good news or bad.

"Perfect Potter went out the hero," Draco said. Hermione ignored the bitterness in his voice and nodded her head slightly. She was relieved that he'd at least been able to defeat Voldemort before dying. Still, she couldn't comprehend that her two best friends, her surrogate brothers, were gone for good. 

"I think I w-want to go to bed," she said faintly. He nodded and motioned for her to follow him. She did and they followed the familiar path to a room she had once frequented. As they walked, she looked at the halls, which looked more welcoming than the last time she had been here. The last time, just a fortnight before they had broken up, he had still been pretty new in owning the home for himself and was still planning out his redecorating. _Apparently he hasn't wasted his last five years,_ she thought to herself. He opened the door to what she still thought of as _her_ room. He had left it just as she liked it: white walls and linens with hard wood floor. 

"I had Ella change the linens while I went to get you," Draco said, leaning casually against the doorframe as she stepped into the room. She nodded and turned to thank him. His slacks were black and well tailored, and his white button up shirt was untucked and unbuttoned at the top. His fine white-blonde hair fell slightly into his eyes, and his arms were crossed. 

"Thank you," she said softly, looking away from him. It still hurt, even after all this time. The memories fought their way up, but she pushed them back. There would be time enough for them later. Tonight would be a night to morn what had been and what could have been. 

"You know where my room is if you need me," he said and left, the door clicking softly behind him. She shivered, scared of being alone. Panic rose sharply in her, and she almost called out to him. __

"No," she said softly, speaking to herself, "I need to be brave. Harry and Ron would want it. They never liked him much anyway." She pulled off her robes and stepped into her cotton shorts and tank top. When she was nestled in the middle of the bed, her covers wrapped tightly around her body, she allowed herself to think. Her first thoughts were of her fallen brothers and their fight that morning. 

_"How about The Leaky Cauldron?" Harry had suggested, always eager to visit the pub that had been his first foray into the magical world. Ron and Hermione groaned. Harry narrowed his eyes slightly, offended by their groans. "Well, Oh Majestic Ones, where do _you_ suggest?" _

_"Let's go into Muggle London," Ron suggested. Hermione made a face and rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"_

_"Let's try somewhere new. We never try anywhere new! Besides, Muggle London is so boring," she said standing up from her desk and pulling her cloak on. _

_"It is not! You're just saying that because you were raised there. I want to eat there!" Ron said, starting to sound childish. Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes. _

_"Whatever," she said, "I'll just eat with Ginny." _

The tears came at last as she thought of her last few minutes with her best friends. She was bad with last minutes, as she had proved with Draco. 

"Hermione," Draco mumbled sleepily as she got out of the bed and started reaching for her undergarments. "Where are you going?"

_"I have an interview with the Ministry of Magic in an hour and a half. I have to get ready for it," she replied, pulling on Draco's shirt from the previous day that had been lying on the floor. _

_"Why do you need to work? Can't I support us?" Draco asked, propping himself up on one elbow. _

_"Draco, we've talked about this. I'm not going to be some submissive girlfriend, fiancée, wife, whatever, and let you bring in all the money. I would be entirely too bored. I'm getting a job, and that's that," she said curtly and started walking towards the door. _

_"But, you said you wouldn't get one," Draco said, getting out of bed himself and pulling on a pair of green silk boxers. Hermione turned to look at him, her eyes narrowed._

_"Draco Atticus Malfoy, I said no such thing and you know it!" she said, almost spitting with anger. Draco's eyes narrowed. _

_"Yes you did, Hermione Jane Granger. You told me last night when we were coming home from Circe's," he said. Hermione let out a short, humorless laugh._

_"I did no such thing! I told you I would _think_ about it. Draco, if you can't get over your sexist, male chauvinistic tendencies, then I don't think I can be with you," she said, glaring at him. His face lost its anger. It lost all its emotions and became the mask of indifference that Hermione had worked so hard to keep him from using all the time. _

_"Fine. Leave, then," he said and turned and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. _

Somewhere in Malfoy Manor a door slammed and Hermione jumped, and then started to cry harder. _What have I done? _She asked silently. _What have I done to get my best friends taken from me and to have the one man I love so close, yet not mine?_ There was a loud crack of thunder and Hermione was out of her bed before "Quidditch" could be said. She opened the door and slowly padded down the hallway to Draco's room.

***

Draco, after dropping Hermione off at her room, went back to his own and poured himself a glass of wine. He sighed heavily. Many nights he had stayed awake, imagining that he had Hermione back. He never imagined that she would be in his home because of such horrible circumstances. 

He had never been best friends with Potter and Weasley. Deep down he had resented all the Weasley's because they came from a happy family. He had himself convinced as a child that his family was far superior to the Weasley's because his family and money, and they didn't. All through Hogwarts he had believed that. 

He tried to befriend Potter their first year at Hogwarts. Potter, the scrawny little kid with money, but no happy home life, could have been a great friend to him, but he had chosen Weasley instead. Draco had never forgiven him for that, nor could he ever let him forget that the Malfoys were superior to all. 

When he and Hermione had started dating, Draco called a truce with Potter, but not with Weasley. A lot of things had changed because of the war, but the feud with the Malfoys and the Weasley's would always be there. It was the one constant thing in Draco's life, and he liked it that way. 

Now Hermione was at his house because her two best friends were dead. He wished he could do something. He knew that he had lost all rights to comfort her the day he had told her to get out. It was a decision that he didn't immediately regret. All the years of growing up as a Malfoy had lead him to believe that women didn't work, that their husbands supported them and their families. It was the way he had wanted it, but he didn't expect for Hermione to be so against it. It was a good two weeks before he realized that he had lost the best he had ever had. 

Draco looked at the calendar on the wall. It had been two weeks since Hermione had left his house. There had been no owl from her, no floo call, no form of contact at all. The biggest confirmation that she wasn't coming back was when she had gone to the interview, gotten the job, and kept it. From what he had heard, she was very happy at her job. That afternoon, Potter came to visit. 

_"Malfoy," Potter said, glaring at the man behind the desk. Draco gladly returned the glare, content to let out his anger on the Boy Who Wouldn't Die. _

_"What do I owe this _pleasure_?" Draco asked, sarcasm lacing his voice. Potter sat ungracefully into a chair in front of the desk. _

_"Hermione. You really hurt her, you know. You knew all along that Hermione wasn't going to sit around and just be some trophy for your associates to stare at. You knew she was going to get a job and be independent," Potter said, his glare holding strong._

_"This isn't any of your concern, Potter," Draco said in a quiet, icy voice. Potter's eyes narrowed further, and Draco, who had seen him mad many times, knew his anger was at its boiling point. _

_"Like hell it isn't! Hermione is my best friend, and when a __toerag__ like you hurts her, it becomes my business! I don't know what she sees in you, but she sees something. If you have any inclinations at all of keeping her, I suggest you get off your sorry arse and drag yourself to her office and apologize!" Potter practically yelled, standing up and leaning forward on Draco's desk. Draco stood up stiffly, towering over the unusually short and still scrawny Potter. _

_"I will _not_ have you telling me what I will do, Potter. Get out of my office right now, or I will call security, although by the time they drag their lazy arses up here, there may be no Potter here for them to cart off," Draco said in a quiet, authoritative voice. Potter took a step back, still glaring at Draco. _

_"If you can't apologize, then you've lost her forever," Potter said, and then left the office quietly. _

Draco took a sip of his wine. He could hear the voice of his father, as he often did when he recalled this memory. _Malfoys are never at fault, and therefore do not apologize._ How could he have believed a man who was obviously so wrong? He took another sip. It had been eight years since his father had died, and yet he was still learning all of his father's shortcomings. 

Somewhere in the house a door slammed. Draco sighed. The house elves never learned that when a storm was approaching, doors should be shut gently or else they would slam. There was a loud clap of thunder and Draco nearly split his wine on his shirt. He sighed and set his glass down as took of his shirt and pants and crawled into his bed, exhausted to the very bone. 

Because he was so tired, he fell asleep immediately and never heard the door opening. 

***

Hermione gently opened the door to Draco's bedroom. She looked around the room and saw the wine glass on his table. His pants and shirt were slung over his chair, and he was in bed, snoring gently. Hermione crept to the bed and simply watched him, lost in the wonders of his beauty.

When she had been dating him, she had loved to watch him sleep. When he slept, every line on his face left and he relaxed to the fullest. He always slept on his back with his face to the wide when he was alone. One arm would be flung out to the side and the other would be draping across his own stomach. Hermione was relieved to see that some things never changed. It was a warm night so he had pushed his heavy duvet to the foot of the bed and his sheets were pushed to his hips. There was another loud clap of thunder and Hermione jumped slightly. She wiped her damp cheeks with her hands. The rain started to pound against the roof in hard torrents. Hermione crawled onto the bed and slipped under the sheets. 

Draco, who wasn't used to another person being in his bed, woke up at the disturbance. He opened his eyes and lifted his head slightly.

"Hermione?" he mumbled sleepily. She put a hand on the arm that was stretched across his chest and he automatically reached out for her with his other. "What is it?"

"I just…I don't want to be alone," she whispered. He nodded and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled close to him, and let herself enjoy him. Then the memories came back. 

_Harry came into her office. She didn't acknowledge his presence; she was too busy pouring her heart and soul into her work so she wouldn't think about _him. _He sat down in front of her desk and leaned back comfortably in the chair, content to just study her. She looked up at him after a few moments. _

_"Hey Hermione. How are you?" he asked, smiling slightly at her. She returned the smile, thankful all of the sudden to have such good friends. _

_"I've been okay. How are you?" she asked politely, although it had only been a few hours since she'd spoken to him. _

_"Pretty good. Hermione, I need to talk to you," he said, dropping the polite conversation at once. Hermione 's eyes left his face and settled on the scroll of parchment that she had been writing on. _

_"Oh? About what?" she asked in a pseudo-polite voice. She knew what he wanted to talk to her and about, and he knew that she knew. _

_"I think you made a really good choice," he said. Hermione dropped the quill she'd been holding. For the past two weeks, Ron had been the one telling her that Malfoy was a huge prick and that she was doing the right thing by dumping him. Harry had said that she needed to wait, and that he would probably come around. Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her friend._

_"You aren't Ron under the influence of Polyjuice, are you?" she asked. Harry smiled ruefully. "Ron wouldn't use Polyjuice, no matter how tempted. The transformations were _terrible_. Ron would never willingly go through that pain again. No, I went and spoke with him this morning, and he was being a huge wanker. There is no way he's going to come around; he's stuck in his Pureblood ways, and I think it's for the best that you two are over." Hermione resumed her writing. _

_"Well then, Oh Great Potter, if you are finished controlling my love life, then you may leave," she said coolly. Harry stared at her with an opened mouth. _

_"What was that for?" he asked incredulously. She looked back up at him, her eyes slightly narrowed._

_"Ron is the one with the prejudices. You are supposed to be the calm friend, not telling me what to do. You are supposed to be the friend that supports me in whatever decision I make, not telling me what is best. Harry, please leave before I get even angrier with you and say something I regret," Hermione said. She once more looked down at her scroll. Harry stood up and walked to the door. _

_"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he said and left her office. _

Draco could feel the tears wetting his skin. He didn't know if he was the cause of them, or if the deaths of her friends were. _Don't be daft,_ Draco told himself. _Her friends were more important to her than you were, so there is no way she would be thinking about you now._ The few silent tears turned into body heaving sobs. Draco tightened his hold on Hermione and rubbed soothing circles on her back. She pressed closer to him, needing his comfort. 

Hermione never wanted to leave. She wanted this night to last forever. She wanted to stay here, wrapped in Draco's arms with him rubbing her back. She didn't want to have to leave his home and show up at work where she would truly have to accept their deaths. 

She didn't want to have to see the Weasley's.

Hermione cried harder, thinking of the Weasley's. Their cheerful family had been hurt enough when, just one year into the war, Percy had been killed. The thing that hurt the worst was that he had never reconciled with the family. The funeral had been tough for the Weasley's, Harry, and Hermione. 

_They lowered the mahogany casket into the ground, and Mrs. Weasley almost collapsed. Mr. Weasley caught her and held her in his arms and she sobbed heavily. Hermione was standing in between Harry and Ron, one of their hands in each of hers. The heartache was so bad that she could actually _feel _it in the air. One by one, the guests left until only the Weasley's and their two surrogate children were left. _

_"I can't believe he's gone," Ginny murmured from Ron's left. Her words fell heavily on the silence, and no one spoke for a long time. Then, as one, all of the children left, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Weasley standing alone by the grave of their estranged son._

Hermione pushed her memories of that hard time back. It had taken months before Mrs. Weasley was even slightly like her normal self. She hated to think how long it was going to take this time. 

Draco had been there for her last time. He was here for her now, but she wondered how long it was going to last. 

_Hermione entered the large entrance hall of the manor and threw her cloak onto the table by the door for the House Elf to put away. Her black heels click on the marble floor as she made her way up the stairs to the study where she knew Draco would be waiting for her. Sure enough, he was sitting at the desk, writing on a piece of parchment. He looked up at her when she walked in. Without saying anything he got up from his desk and strode towards her. Once he was in front of her he wrapped his arms around her waist and she leaned into his brace, the tears she had been fighting all day coming at once. He held her and rubbed her back soothingly, murmuring words of comfort to her. Finally the tears stopped and she stayed quietly in his embrace. Without saying a word he gently pulled her to the chair that he had once been occupying. He sat down and pulled her into his lap. Instinctively she curled up against him. _

_"Want to talk about it?" he asked at last, his voice uncharacteristically soft. She knew she would find no biting sarcasm or wit tonight; tonight she would only find comfort and understanding._

_"They've been through so much…all the sons in the war, Ginny dating Blaise, me dating you, and now Percy. They've suffered so much. Why do people as wonderful as the Weasley's have to suffer like this?" she asked quietly. He held her tightly and didn't speak for a moment while he gathered his words. _

_"Hermione, we can even begin to explain why things happen, or even how. You just have to accept that things like this have always happened, are happening, and will continue to happen for all of eternity. This isn't something that is happening because of something they've done. They didn't do anything to deserve it. _No one_ deserves death and suffering, except for maybe Voldemort. But then, saying that makes me descend to his level," he sighed. She didn't say anything, but thought about his words. Suddenly she pulled away from him to look him in the face. _

_"Okay, Oh Wise One, who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?" she asked suspiciously, a small smile tugging at her lips. He smirked. _

_"Wouldn't you like to know," he teased, his usual demeanor slipping easily back into place. She laughed shortly, but the from soon returned. _

_"I feel so guilty, laughing. I feel guilty even being happy," she said miserably. Draco pulled her back against him and kissed her on the forehead. _

_"It's like I said, you have to accept that it's happened and that he wouldn't expect you to be sad forever because of him," Draco said sagely. "And you know I'm right because Malfoys are always right," he added in a mock-serious voice, ruining the gravity of the moment. Hermione smiled. She knew he was right, and that it was okay to be sad, but not forever. There would be a time to be happy again. _

A shuddering sob ran through Hermione and Draco's eyes flew open. He looked down at her and found that she was dry sobbing. Suddenly she sat up in bed, a green tint appearing on her alarmingly pale face. Draco got out of the bed and led the violently shaking woman to the bathroom. He sat her down in front of the toilet, and soon she was praying to the porcelain god. He held her hair back from her face and rubbed her back.

Draco lost count of how many times she had gotten sick after seven. Finally, after she had thrown up all food in her stomach and had moved on to dry heaving, she stopped. She sat back and took in a long, shaky breath. Draco left the bathroom for a moment to retrieve his wand. Once back in the bathroom, he conjured up a glass of water for Hermione.

"Thank you," she whispered and slowly drank the water, trying not to upset her stomach. He nodded in acknowledgement and conjured up a toothbrush for her to use. She used it quickly and turned to him, her brown eyes resembling those of a lost puppy. 

"Do you want to go back to bed?" he asked her, stepping aside so that she could move into the bedroom. She shook her head. 

"I- do you think we could talk or do something? I want- no, need- to keep my mind off of w-what happened," she asked.

"What do you want to do?" he asked as he leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms across his chest. 

"Will you tell me a story? Like you used to? It might help me to sleep," she asked, her voice resembling that of a child's. Draco smiled slightly. 

"Of course. Hop into bed little Hermy," he said, playfully falling back on the nickname he used when she wanted a story. A minuscule smile appeared on her face. She automatically got onto the side of the bed that she had always occupied and Draco sat down in the chair next to the bed. 

"One upon a time," he started, just as he had always done. Hermione smiled as she curled against the pillow, glad that he was doing something the same. It was a comforting thought. He stopped to think. 

"Such a lovely story. A little on the short side, though," Hermione teased. He stuck his tongue out at her, just as he always did. "Would you pleasure me with another?" He rolled eyes. 

"Once upon a time," he started again, "There was a princess. Her wicked stepfather, who had desperately wanted a boy, sent her away to live in the village. She grew up in the village under the care of an ugly hag-like woman and a mentally-not-there man. Although this couple had their faults- and, believe me, there were _many_- the girl grew up loving them. She didn't wish for much in her life. Her one dream was to go to a ball at the castle, just for the sake of it.

"The woman, who was really the brains in that relationship, knew what the girl wanted. One day, seeing her beautiful charge looking very desolately at the castle, wrote to the King and Queen and asked them to grant their daughter this one request. 

"The queen, who had loved their daughter a lot and had wanted to keep her, convinced the king to grant just one wish. They held a ball under the guise of it being for the 1,000th anniversary of the village. Everyone in the village was invited. The little princess was very excited when she received the invitation. 

" 'Oh, mum! A ball, a real ball!' she would happily repeat over and over until the hag woman was almost sorry she had written to the king and queen. Then the woman would think about how desolate Mildred- that's the princess- had looked, and she would regret even thinking about it. 

"In the weeks leading up to the ball Mildred's excitement mounted. She would finish her chores early in the day and would spend her hours until late in the evening sewing a gown to wear to the ball. Finally, the night before the ball, she finished her gown. She tried it on and the hag woman 'oohed' and 'ahhed' appropriately. The father just sat and smiled, as he had no idea what they were going on about.

"The night of the ball came and Mildred made her way to the castle happily. She was very excited at the prospect of seeing the castle. 'Once I see the castle I'll finally be able to die happily!' she thought happily. She had grown up a peasant and therefore thought as idiotically as peasants tend to do. 

"Mildred had a wonderful time at the ball. She danced one dance with the prince, but it felt weird. She suspected it had something to do with the fact that he looked like he could have been her brother. Still, she had grown up with the peasants, and figured that she couldn't possibly be related to him, and that it had to be a major coincidence.

"The highlight of the ball, however, was when she met her Prince Charming. He was Prince Harold from the next kingdom over. They spent the whole night dancing and talking, and they fell madly in love. As the ball was drawing to a close, the king stood up and cleared his throat, announcing that he wanted to speak. 

" 'I have a very important announcement to make,' he said, and everyone crowed near him because making him happy and serving him was what gave them the most joy in life. 'I would like to present to you my daughter, whom I sent to live among you sixteen years ago so that she would learn to think like you and could help me strive to make this a better land for all of you.' This, in reality, was not what the king had planned at all. He saw his daughter and how Prince Harold had fallen in love with her and decided that having a daughter wouldn't be too bad after all. She could secure the alliance to Prince Harold's father's lands that he had been seeking for twelve years. 

" 'I present to you, Princess Mildred!' The crowed cheered and Mildred found that she had been pushed up beside the king. The queen, who was in tears by this point, gathered her daughter into her arms and hugged her. Mildred was very confused at this point. She didn't have time to think about it, however, as the king announced that they must leave to go visit the princess's foster parents.

"The king and queen did as they promised, and talked to the hag woman and the man. Mildred loved her foster parents, and did not want to go live at the castle. They insisted, and so she agreed to see how she liked it. The king and queen were very pleased for their own reasons. The queen was pleased because she had finally gotten her daughter back, and the king was pleased because Prince Harold was to stay with them for a fortnight. 

"Mildred spent the next fortnight getting to know the customs and the little quirks of being royalty. She also fell deeply in love with Prince Harold. He was overjoyed at the news that she was a princess, and had immediately written to his father, telling him of the radiant beauty that he had met. The fortnight drew to a close, and the king and queen once again held a ball. This time it was for her. She was to choose whether or not she wanted to stay living with the king and queen or to go back being a peasant. 

"The night of the ball came and Mildred spent the first part of the ball with King Harold. He took her to a secluded corner of the large balcony and took her hands into his. 

" 'I know we have only known each other this one fortnight, but I think I have fallen in love with you,' he said in that elegant way that only royalty could talk in. 'Will you come back home with me and be my wife?' he asked her. She smiled happily and threw her arms around his neck in a very unladylike way. 

" 'Yes! Yes! A thousand times _yes_!' she said, imitating that elegant way of speaking. Their sappy moment was interrupted, however, when the king came and told the princess that it was time for her to make her decision. The princess, thought back on her decision. Surely Prince Harold wouldn't leave her because of it?

"Mildred stood next to the king and looked out at the sea of people. 'My people, I am very sorry if you wanted a princess, because I could never be one for you. I could only ever be a peasant dressing up in pretty dresses, pretending to be a princess. I'm very sorry, but I must decline the wonderful offer of my parents.' There was a silence, and the king and queen stared stonily at each other. They had showered her every luxury of court and had been convinced that she would accept their offer. 

"Mildred, seemingly unaware of reality, as peasants were wont to be, made her way to the corner, where she knew her prince would be. He was there, but the look on his face was odd. 

" 'What's wrong, darling?' she asked in a tender voice and reached out to touch him. His faced became as stony as the king and queen's had been. 

" 'Since you have declined your offer from your generous parents, I will have to retract my marriage offer,' he said, and stormed off. The princess started to cry, and promptly left through another door, running the whole way to home of her peasant family. 

"For weeks on end Mildred didn't come out of her room. She stayed in her bed and wept, sadly thinking of Prince Harold. When the fifth week came around, the hag woman gently knocked on Mildred's bedroom door. 

" 'Sweets, there's someone here to see you,' she said kindly. Mildred got off the bed, wiped her face off, and opened the door. There, standing in the impossibly small hallway next to the hag woman was Prince Harold. 

" 'Do come in,' Mildred said, suddenly aware of the stench she was causing. She hadn't bathed since the night of the ball. The hag woman smiled slightly and made her way down the stairs and out of the way. 

" 'I have done a lot of thinking and I was a very big arse the night of the ball. I love you too much to let something as silly as this get in the way of our marriage. Will you still be my wife?' he asked her. Mildred smiled contentedly.

" 'Of course!' she cried happily and they lived happily ever after. The end."

When Draco finished his story he looked at Hermione. She was sleepily soundly, a very small smile on her lips. Draco pressed his lips against her forehead in a gently kiss and slipped into the bed next to her. _I hope she understood the story,_ Draco thought as he drifted off to sleep.

***

The next morning dawned bright. Hermione stretched happily, her eyes still closed. She stiffened as her fingertips brushed against the headboard that she knew was not her own. Her eyes flew open and she sat up in bed. Her heart sank as she recognized the room. Last night had not been a dream after all. Her face crumpled as she fell back into bed and pressed her face into the pillow, willing her tears not to come. The door opened and she turned to face it. Draco walked into the room carrying a tray with waffles, fresh strawberries, coffee, and orange juice.

When they had been dating, Draco had brought her breakfast in bed quite often. There would always be a main breakfast food, a fruit, coffee, orange juice, the Daily Prophet, and some sort of sweet token like a flower or a small gift.

The Daily Prophet and sweet token weren't there. 

Hermione smiled at him as he set the tray down on her lap. He took one of the strawberries from her bowl and popped it in his mouth, smirking playfully at her. She swatted his hand away from it as he reached for a second.

"Mine!" she laughed. He plopped down on the bed next to her and studied her as she started to butter her waffle. "Thanks for everything, Draco," she said, stopping suddenly and reaching over to give him a hug. He returned it and smiled at her. 

"No problem. So, did you like the story last night, or was it so boring that you couldn't stay awake for it?" he asked, teasingly. She smiled.

"It was very lovely. In fact, I'd say it was your best. And yes, I _did_ stay awake for the whole thing. I fell asleep as you said 'The end.' It made me feel a lot better," she said, taking his hand and squeezing it gently before dropping it and starting to eat her waffle. She stopped, her waffle halfway to her mouth, and studied him for a moment. "Was it like your old ones were? Based on us?" she asked quietly. He studied her for a moment. 

"Does it matter?" he asked silently, looking away from her. She sighed, slightly frustrated, and went back to eating. Draco's heart fell. He had been hoping that this would be what they needed to get back together. 

"It does." She said, bringing him out of his melancholy state. He looked up at her, expectantly, but did not offer any explanations. His heart was pounding in his chest, and all he could do was look at her.

"You see, the truth is, I love you, Draco. I've always loved you and I probably always will. After what happened to Harry and Ron-" she stopped her and choked back a sob. He started to reach for her, but she held up a hand to stop. "After what happened, I've come to realize that we can't take life for granted. I hate that it took my two best friends…going away…for me to realize this. I mean, after all I've lost, I was still being so stupid!" Her voice broke and the tears came. Draco set the tray at the foot of the bed and pulled her against him.

"We were both being stupid, Hermione," he whispered, kissing her on the top of the head. His heart was lighter than it had been in years. _I love you, Draco,_ kept floating across his mind. Every time it happened, he had to fight back the huge smile that wanted to appear. 

"Was your story like the old ones?" she asked in a voice that was hoarse from crying some time later. He pulled her tighter against him. 

"Yes," he offered quietly. She looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy from all the crying she'd done. Pale face and bags under her eyes told of a restless night. 

"D-do you think that we could try again?" she asked, her eyes pleading. "I don't think I could even pretend to be happy without you after all that's happened." Draco smiled and kissed her forehead. 

"I love you, Hermione Jane Granger," he whispered and captured her lips with his, effectively cutting off conversation for a _long_ time.

***

Several hours later, she stood at the bottom of the stairs in her favorite sweat suit- Kelly green with silver stripes down the legs- and an impatient look on her face. A moment later Draco appeared down the stairs in black slacks and a blue button up shirt. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her, buttoning his shirtsleeve. She took a deep breath, and nodded. 

"I don't want to, Draco, I need to," she said, and he nodded. He laced her right hand with his left and they left the manor together. 

There were reporters everyone. Hermione had expected this. The Boy Who Lived had finally died along with is faithful sidekick. Being the only living part of the infamous Dream Team, she knew they would seek her out. She pulled the baseball hat farther down over her face and pushed the glasses farther up on her nose. She pressed close to Draco's side and wished for the millionth time that she hadn't put up Anti-Apparation wards on her apartment. 

It took a while for the reporters to realize who they were. Draco had not worn any head or eye gear, but had done something that he rarely did- wore color. Draco put a protective arm around Hermione's waist as they fought their way through the crowd, the reporters yelling questions.

"Where were you when you heard the news?" a young witch in banana yellow robes called out.

"Who told you the news?" an old bald man in plum robes barked. 

"Are you and Draco Malfoy an item now?" several reporters wanted to know. Hermione didn't answer any question; instead, she silently fought her way to the top of the stoop. Just before they went inside, Hermione stopped Draco and turned to face him.

"Don't take this the wrong way, love, but I think it would be too tacky to announce our engagement the day after my best friends died," she whispered to him, and he nodded in agreement before giving her an innocent kiss on the cheek. Cameras flashed everywhere and the questions got louder and more frequent. "I'm very sorry for the loss of my two best friends," she started, pausing to wipe the tears that had once again started to fall, "but I know they would be happy that they didn't die in vain, and that they came out victorious in the end." She had to stop as the tears overcame her. Draco pulled her into an embrace, all to aware of the cameras flashing everywhere. Muggles walking down the streets kept giving them odd looks as they wondered what celebrity lived nearby without their knowledge. 

"Ms. Granger has no more comments," Draco said calmly and pulled Hermione into the apartment. She took a few minutes to calm down. 

"Thank you," she said, giving him a light kiss on the lips. She was almost surprised at how natural being with Draco was after several years apart. 

"Do you want to go-" Draco started, but was cut off by the appearance of another person in the room. Hermione, noticing his gaze, turned to see Ginny Weasley, looking miserable, standing in her doorway. She was wearing a long tee shirt of Hermione's that said _Daddy's Little Angel_ across the front. Her long red hair was mussed, as if she had spent several hours in bed, tossing and turning. 

"What are you doing here, Ginny?" Hermione asked, surprised, as she walked to the younger girl and pulled her into a hug. Ginny returned the hug, her bottom lip trembling. 

"I couldn't stay at home. I told mum I was coming to stay with you, but you weren't home, and I was worried, so I stayed. I hope you don't mind," she said, tears already falling. Hermione hugged her childhood friend tighter.

"Of course I don't. Draco came and got me last night to tell me and to make sure they didn't come for me. He brought me back so that I could drop off a few things before heading to the Burrow," she said, stroking Ginny's hair, her own tears falling. Ginny glanced up to look at Draco. He was standing uncomfortably in the same spot he had been, unused to seeing two crying girls embracing each other. He thought one was bad enough, but he had never had to deal with _two_. 

"Mum will be happy to see you. All she could talk about last night was how awful for you to be the only one left, and everything. I think she just didn't want to think about Harry and Ron," Ginny said sadly. 

"I don't blame her," Hermione said softly, and then, turning to Draco added, "Make yourself at home while I get some things. Come on, Gin, let's get you freshened up." The two girls disappeared into the bedroom, and Draco walked to the fireplace where pictures were lined up on the mantel. The first picture was of the younger four Weasley kids, all sitting happily together on the stairs outside the burrow. The twins were on either side of Ginny and Ron was behind her. They were all smiling and laughing over something, but Draco would never know what since it was a Muggle picture. The next picture was of the Dream Team itself. Harry was in the middle with Ron on his left and Hermione on his right, taken at graduation. When Draco got to the third picture, his heart skipped a beat. It was a Muggle picture of him. He was sitting under an oak tree at Hogwarts, his eyes closed and his face peaceful. Draco could remember when the picture was taken. 

Hermione was late, but Draco didn't mind. The breeze was cool and the sun was warm. He sat peacefully, his eyes closed, just letting his mind be blank. Suddenly he heard a clicking noise. His eyes flew open and Hermione was standing in front of him, a mischievous look on her face and her hands behind her back. 

_"What'd you do?" he asked her warily as she sat down next to him. She pulled a camera out from behind your back. _

_"Took a picture. You looked too innocent- I had to!" she laughed. Draco rolled his eyes and pulled her close to him and resumed his peace._

"Even after we broke up, I couldn't give that picture up. It was you just as I always thought of you- secretly innocent," Hermione whispered into Draco's ear. He turned around and pulled her into his arms.

"I was never innocent, not even as a child," he said sadly. She put her head against his shoulder and he rested cheek against hers. They were interrupted by the slightly coughing of Ginny.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I think we'll need to get to the Burrow- Mum'll be worried," Ginny said. She had taken a shower, and her wet hair was braided in a long plait down her back. She had on a pair of worn blue jeans and a navy blue Weasley sweater. Hermione pulled away from Draco and the three of them flooed to the Burrow. 

***

When Hermione and Draco apparated back to Malfoy Manor that night, Hermione felt much better. She had been dreading seeing her surrogate family because it would confirm that it was real, that it had really happened, and that they were really gone. She had thought that it was going to be all tears and saying how much they were going to be missed. She was wrong. 

The Weasley clan had welcomed Draco into the home just as they welcomed Hermione. The war changed a lot of people, the Weasley's included. The war had taught them that just because someone's family as done one thing for years, it didn't mean that they would continue to do so. For centuries the Weasley's had remained neutral in wars. This was the first war in nine hundred years that they had participated in as a whole. The Malfoys were always associated with the Dark side, but Draco turned his back on his family to help the Light side. 

Everyone was in the living room, each member trying to make conversation. Finally, Ginny broke the tension in the room. 

"Do you remember in my First Year when Harry and Ron couldn't get through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ so they flew the flying car to Hogwarts?" Ginny asked, sniggering at the memory. 

"I do! I remember thinking, after I found out, how stupid they were for not waiting for adults," Hermione laughed. 

"Their landing was spectacular!" Fred said, grinning. 

"Yeah, right into the Whomping Willow!" George finished. 

After that the conversation flowed easily. Everyone retold his or her favorite memories of Harry and Ron, Draco included_._

Draco turned on the lights in the living room, and sat down on the couching, pulling Hermione into his lap. She curled up against him, finding comfort in the feel of him against her. She was nearly asleep when he finally spoke. 

"Hermione?" he said softly into her ear. She shivered at the tickling sensation. 

"Hmmm?" she murmured, not moving from her comfortable position. 

"Want to apparate to Las Vegas and get married now? I don't think I can spend another night not having you as mine," he said softly into her ear, his breath still tickling her. She thought for a moment. 

"Will you buy me a new dress to wear?" she asked sleepily, smiling at her fiance. He chuckled. 

"Of course, love. Anything you want," he said. She sat up and crawled off his lap. 

"What are we waiting for, then?" she asked impishly, pulling on Draco's arm in an attempt to get him off of the couch. He laughed and stood up. 

"What are we waiting for indeed," he repeated, and, grabbing his keys, they left the Manor together to start a new life. 

**Disclaimer**: everything belongs to JK Rowling, and I'm only using it for my own enjoyment. 

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the rather short ending…I was feeling like it wasn't going anywhere, and that it needed to be ending. So, it's a bit sad, yes? Well good! I was listening to sad music when I wrote it! It's amazing how music can affect you writing. Anyway, it would be lovely of you to review!  

  

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